A Study in Destiny
by KCS
Summary: Seven times Spock of Vulcan met James T. Kirk for the first time, and one time they were re-united.  Mainly TOS-verse, last section XI-verse.  Giftfic for my dear friend PGF.


**Title**: A Study in Destiny  
><strong>Characters<strong>: Spock, Kirk, others  
><strong>Rating<strong>: K+  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>1629 (200 words each section plus footnotes)  
><strong>Spoilers<strong>: Basic series and movie spoilers, including Obsession, Mirror, Mirror, City on the Edge of Forever, TWOK, TSFS, ST:XI. Speculation in the third section, an idea I had for a longer fic but which I used here first.  
><strong>Summary<strong>: Seven times Spock of Vulcan met James T. Kirk for the first time, and one time they were reunited. This is half-crack, half-serious, part IDEK, all love.  
><strong>AN1**: Was going to be a five and one but I somehow added one too many, and then another.

**A/N2**: Written for my co-author, special beta, general cheerleader, and dear friend, **protectorgf**. A very, very happy graduation to you, chum, and may your future life be everything you hope and dream, because you deserve it.

A little over three years ago, I was a petrified young fanfic writer, who had finally been brave enough to put up a story or two on , never before having posted any of my writing in any public format. Someone left me a lovely review on one of those stories, and suggested a fic idea to me. I countered with a collab suggestion, and the rest, as they say, is history in the Sherlock Holmes section of . Gone are the golden days when we could churn out two chapters of an epic per night (how the heck did we ever manage that?), but you're still one of the best friends I have, PGF; and so here's to you from the bottom of my heart - and congratulations!

* * *

><p>VIII.<p>

Spock of Vulcan had, while to his mother he gave the honor she was due, never been interested in what constituted his inferior side, his human half. Humans were emotional creatures, driven by passion, lust, and greed, and no such volatile species could successfully co-exist with Vulcans. His tenure at Starfleet Academy only served to cement this opinion, as he could count on one hand the number of human 'Fleet cadets toward which he did not immediately feel an unrelenting aversion.

Captain Pike had been one exception to the rule; Spock would forever respect the man. Though they had never been what a human could call 'friends,' Spock was of the opinion that the universe would certainly be a better place for all concerned were more humans like this one. But besides Christopher Pike, and on occasion Montgomery Scott (who was a quite sensible human), Spock had no real desire to more than converse with other humans aboard the _Enterprise _for his first eleven years aboard.

And then a small dynamo named Captain James Tiberius Kirk transported onto the ship as its new captain, and in thirty seconds single-handedly turned Spock's world on its head.

Irrepressible smile, meet implacable heart.

* * *

><p>VII.<p>

Were Spock to believe in such illogical things as hexes or curses, he would have suspected the existence of one such upon the central circuits of the _Enterprise_'s transporter motherboard, as within the first twelve-month of their voyage the machinery in question malfunctioned enough times to be almost ludicrous.

This, however, was the first time he had become a victim rather than an observer of such occurrences. The experience was not practical. Or pleasant.

"Well, this is new."

"And altogether disagreeable," was all Spock trusted himself to say, without the danger of verbally eviscerating his captain for the inane observation.

"Oh, Spock," Kirk sighed fondly. Then his expression changed, and Spock's now-long hair began to stand on end. "If it's any consolation, you make an absolutely _gorgeous _woman."

And that was, as the humans said, wrong on so many levels that he immediately placed a table between their respective bio-beds.

Between the captain's affronted expression and the hyena-like cackling of their highly unprofessional Chief Medical Officer, Spock thought he could be forgiven the hormonal imbalance which made him envision sending the both of them through the transporter – in its current dysfunctional state, and set on a pattern of wide dispersal.

* * *

><p>VI.<p>

After the neural neutralizer incident, circumstances necessitated the first mind-fusion between captain and first officer. Spock found himself awed at the intensity of this peculiar human's mind. Whereas his was a clear understanding in black-and-white, Kirk's was awash in color, bright and brilliant and altogether fascinating.

But it was not until their encounter with the hemoglobin-consuming cloud-entity that something triggered a long-archived memory, sending a prismatic beam through his ordered thoughts.

Kirk was wary of his suggestion of a mind-joining outside business relations, but finally agreed.

_Pike has placed him over the boarding party, as his scientific knowledge will be necessary to decipher what has happened aboard this unfortunate ship. Captain Garrovick is dead, as are many of his crew – but one man is feebly trying to re-wire the Bridge's navigation console. Half-conscious to begin with, the lieutenant faints from bloodloss before Spock learns his name, but he is the one to catch the young human as he crumples, and calls a medic to attend before returning to his report with Captain Pike._

They break the meld. Kirk looks at him, wide-eyed and smiling. And if he shyly ducks his head, Kirk says nothing besides some illogical sentiment about destiny.

* * *

><p>V.<p>

Spock had suspected the imposture the instant the captain had stepped off the transporter pad; simply because while present society was one of equality, Kirk still maintained that old-fashioned sense of deferential chivalry which endeared him to females of many species. Simply put, the James Kirk he knew would not push past his communications officer in the manner that this human did. The James Kirk he knew would not react with distrust toward any crewman simply based upon youth, especially such puzzled crewmen as the trio of cadets they passed in the corridors. The James Kirk he knew would not attempt to, he believed the expression was, 'make eyes at' at least twelve somewhat mystified crew members on the way to Briefing Room One.

The James Kirk he knew would not refuse his fourth cup of coffee of the day.

Obviously, the man was an impostor.

Neither would the James Kirk he knew attempt six times to break out of the holding cells, not one time making it past the secondary force-fields before being stunned into unconsciousness _again_.

Stubbornness was obviously a (mirror) universal constant; common sense was obviously not.

He was never more grateful for infinite diversity in infinite combinations.

* * *

><p>IV.<p>

Using the Guardian of Forever for personal use had for obvious reasons become a crime punishable by instant dishonorable discharge; however, Spock was the son of the Vulcan ambassador to Earth. Of what use were political connections if one did not utilize them occasionally?

Of course, there were guidelines for such a venture, and he most certainly was not about to tell his Captain what he intended. But he feared that the human would never recover from this more recent blow (1) without outside help which he defiantly refused to accept.

The task was simple but by no means short; his tricorder recorded the moments he chose, the hidden smiles and kisses and quiet walks down lamp-lit streets, and he left unseen and unnoticed before the tragedy struck. Even a Vulcan could not bear to watch it again. Seeing, as a bystander, the simplicity of quiet human love, and knowing that such had to be shattered in order for history to survive was…unpleasant.

He compiled the clips into a video, compressing a few months into two hours of memories, and left it upon the captain's desk on the anniversary of Edith Keeler's death.

Jim would know whom it was from.

(1)_ Operation – Annihilate_! was the next episode after _City on the Edge of Forever_

* * *

><p>III.<p>

His mind is…blank. Blank as a…there is an ending to the metaphor (or is it simile? He cannot recall), but he cannot think of it – or of anything.

He is void, empty of all and every thing. He does not know if this is a normal state, or cause for alarm. There exists no frame of reference, no feeling, no sensation, no memory.

But wait, there is the latter. Flickers only, dimly seen as shadow pictures on the wall of a cave, backlit by a small campfire – from where did that image appear? – indistinct and hazy. But they exist, and with proper training he may be able to focus them.

Until then, he is content to follow; he has no inclination to disobey, and no reason to consider the notion.

And yet, something draws him back, like a moth to flame (_simile_, it is a simile and not a metaphor), like a flower to sunlight, like snow melting before a fireplace.

All are comparisons to light, he notes absently, and that is what his mind supplies as reference when he sees this human. Light.

He does not yet know his own name, but he knows the light's name is Jim.

* * *

><p>II.<p>

However he had envisioned meeting this universe's version of James Tiberius Kirk (in honesty, the thought had not crossed his mind but three times, as he had more important matters to be concerned with), it had not been thus: namely, saving a shrieking, blue-eyed bundle of icy clothes and profanity from being eaten by one of Delta Vega's worst predators.

Then their eyes met for the first time, and Spock again was taken aback.

Blue. Icy, brilliant, stunning blue.

Jim's eyes were _blue_.

They had other, more pressing, matters to speak of than genetics and recessive traits, and in any case he was in no emotional shape – to deceive himself otherwise was the height of folly – to be speaking to Jim Kirk, in any form. They shared a hasty mind-meld, in which he transferred far more than he should have into the young man's chaotic mind, and settled upon a hasty plan to defeat Nero.

But he could not help but think fondly, as they trudged silently over kilometers of icy wasteland, that in every way this young man was a baby version of his Jim.

Perhaps the eyes would change to their proper color when the boy was older?

* * *

><p>I.<p>

Spock was weary. He had lived after the days of the _Enterprise_-_A _with the single-minded goal of Vulcan-Romulan reunification. And in twenty-four hours, that dream had shattered. Vulcan was no more.

He was a dreamless, friendless, very lonely old man, with only a pendant and a few ghosts for company.

He was very tired.

_"Spock!" His Jim, hazel eyes glistening with affection, greets him; surprisingly vivid, given that this is merely a dream. Mystified, he sees the Bridge of the original _Enterprise_ before them._

_"'Bout time you showed up." The weathered features of Leonard McCoy grin crookedly at him, a century younger. Looking down, he perceives they are both dressed in the now-outdated blue Science uniform._

_"Aye, we've waited long enough," a Scottish burr adds. "You're the last one t'join us."_

_They are all here – Scott, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov, Chapel, and others; all, apparently, awaiting _him_._

_Puzzled, he turns for answers, and finds them in Jim's smile._

_"It's time," he says quietly, holding out a hand as Spock hesitates. _

_And he suddenly knows that it is, and that it…feels right._

_He takes the offered hand, and steps into a world of color – blues and reds and, outshining all else, golds._


End file.
